Everbody in Love with Legolas
by Sekar
Summary: Not really romance, just funny crap. NOT A LOVE STORY, persay... just some randomness that is actually pretty funny.. [COMPLEATE]Everybody loves Legolas but fails miserably...until...(I suck at summaries) Lots of randomness (especially at the end)
1. The madness begins with Frodo

Disclaimer: I do not own lord of the rings or any of the characters, (we'll see about that) muahahahahaha huggles legolas doll  
  
A/N: This is from Legolas' POV, don't kill me I'd prefer if no one came to my house and beat me if'n they don't like it, keep in mind, I do this only for fun and if I were shooting for realism, things would be a heckuva lot different. Canon is basically all over, movie/book/cheese sandwich canon, I'm not very consistent.  
  
Onward!  
  
Everbody in Love with Legolas  
  
Chapter one: The madness begins with Frodo  
  
At first, it didn't seem like such a big deal. A few meaningful looks, the perpetual calls of "I'll help you with the firewood Legolaaas!", and one or  
  
two chance gropes in the dark. At first, I dismissed these as accidents or helpfulness. However, my primary suspicions arose when Boromir, while making camp for the night, suggested with a wink and a raised eyebrow that his shield was big enough for two.  
  
Again, I felt a notion of oddity when Sam, the little hobbit, tripped over a rock, right into my lap. When Aragorn squeezed my tush in the middle of the night and said, "Sorry, I thought you were a Nazgul," I got the impression that he knew perfectly well who I was.  
  
After various and sundry parallel events, I begin to suspect that something  
  
is going on in the Fellowship that is beyond my perception.  
  
As evening grows on, The Fellowship pauses by a suspiciously romantic grassy knoll and makes camp for the night. I bend down, arranging rocks in a circle to make a place for the fire when I hear an appreciative whistle from behind me. Whipping around to catch visual confirmation, I see young Merry Brandybuck who quickly looks away, shoving his hands into his pockets.  
  
"Something I can do for you, Meriadoc?" I ask.  
  
"Just ah–––looking at those clouds," he says, studying the sky with a particularly serious expression in an effort to prove it. "Seems like there  
  
may be a storm on the make. You think so?"  
  
"Perhaps," I say, raising an eyebrow and turning back to the fire circle. "To be sure, some very suspicious things are happening."  
  
After a moment when the circle is complete, I arrange the sticks and kindling gathered by a Nearly Obsequious Sam in the traditional "A" shape, the kindling lined like soldiers at the base. Soft footsteps press forward behind me and I see Frodo crouching down on the opposite side of the circle. I barely look up and acknowledge him, then return to carefully shredding a strip of wood as a starter.  
  
"Anything I can do to help?" Frodo asks and my eyes flick upward again.  
  
"Sure,"I say, sprinkling my handful of shredded bark with a bit of warm liquid from my satchel and holding it out to Frodo. "Blow on this––– softly."  
  
Raising an eyebrow, the little hobbit blows on the shreds in my hand and almost immediately, a small and quiet flame shyly ascends. I give a slight smile at Frodo's shocked expression.  
  
"Was that magic?" he asks, entranced.  
  
"Don't know what you mean by magic," I say, touching the flame in my hand to the thin row of kindling, igniting it. "But it is sort of an Elven trick."  
  
"Where did you learn it?"  
  
I think. "I don't know," I say. "It's been two thousand years, so..." I trail off and shrug.  
  
"Will you sleep with me?" he blurts.  
  
"Sorry, Frodo."  
  
T.B.C...... Dun...dun...dun...  
  
A/N: Yay, first chappy done! Well, I suck at author notes, reviews are welcome, and so are flames, (I;m expecting a bunch of flames lol) 


	2. Stupid grassy knoll!

Disclaimer: Located on the exit to your left, (meaning first chapter, excuse the BAD joke)  
  
A/N: ummmmm, well, no running, you're here now and you are going to read Please, reviews are welcome as well as help and ideas  
  
Excuse my obsession with the word knoll, I just love that word! Knoll knoll knoll  
  
Feedback: Hit me!  
  
ONWARD!  
  
Chapter 2: Stupid Grassy Knoll!  
  
As Sam is cooking dinner later on, we sit around the fire, relaxing after a  
  
long day on our feet. Boromir leans in and whispers in my ear.  
  
"Pretty romantic scene, eh?"  
  
"Which one of you chose this grassy knoll?" I ask.  
  
"I did, why?"  
  
"No reason."  
  
"Lovely, though, isn't it?" Boromir purrs. "Of course, when compared to you..."  
  
"You chose this knoll on purpose."  
  
"Well, I did think it was a suitable and comfortable place for... whatever you were up for," he says, moving in closer. "Of course, there are more private areas..."  
  
I get up and follow him (slightly pissed at all the undesired attention,) to a lush divot bespeckled with wildflowers and trees. I stand with my arms crossed, having followed him only for the purpose of telling him off, yet now I find no right words.  
  
"Stupid grassy knoll." I grumble.  
  
"You want another grassy knoll? I'll find another knoll, Legolas!"  
  
"It's not about the knoll!" I yell, downturning the tail of my sentence in an attempt to keep my voice down. "Just quit trying to get into my pants!"  
  
I return to the campfire in a storm of flush and fury, then stop dead at the empty fireside. At first, I imagine that my eyes have deceived me, but no; the camp is entirely empty, save a small table and two chairs. On the table  
  
is a clean white cloth, two candles and plates. Gandalf steps out.  
  
"I thought you could use a bit of relaxation," he says, smiling.  
  
"Well thank you, isn't this ni–– Heyyy, wait a minute," I stop myself and look at Gandalf suspiciously. "Where is everyone?"  
  
"Out... getting firewood," Gandalf says, grinning nervously. "For the rest of the evening."  
  
I glance at the pile of firewood Sam had already stacked by the tree nearest the circle.  
  
"They, uhm, they actually..."  
  
"Gandalf," I grumble. "You sent them into limbo, didn't you?"  
  
"Only a little."  
  
"Gandalf!"  
  
"Oh come on, they'll only be gone for an hour or so––"  
  
He must have quite a low opinion of elf lovin', I think, half-amused.  
  
"Call them back," I say sternly. Then, as an afterthought: "And I won't sleep with you."  
  
Cursing, he waves his staff and the remainder of the company appear, seemingly in mid-conversation.  
  
"––hurt, could it?" Aragorn says.  
  
"Yeah, because I'll kill you if you try anything," Sam growls.  
  
T.B.C.  
  
A/N: Oh my God! Major flames are expected for this piece of (insert word of choice here)  
  
It may seem like slash, but nothing is actually going to happen... 


	3. Disembodies Voices and a Mad Aragorn

Disclaimer: Located on the first page, (if it lives) buwahahahaaaaa  
  
A/N: Well, again, I have nothing to say, so:  
  
ONWITHTHERANDOMNESSTHATMKAESNOSENSETHATWASWRITTENLATEATNIGHTWITHAMUFFIN!  
  
(I like muffins!)  
  
Chapter 3: Disembodied voices and a mad Aragorn  
  
That night as I go to my position to stand guard, I notice Gandalf's staff lifting the back of my tunic for a better view of my arse, and the distant howl of Wargs sounds tonight more like Pippin relieving some tension behind a tree.  
  
I try to relax as I stand guard, listening to the sounds of my amorous companions falling asleep, (some of them murmuring my name quietly and muttering, "No, I'll still respect you...") and ponder the events of the day.  
  
Without being arrogant, I can understand why they all seem to want to something other than innocent camaraderie from me. I am rather dashing. The way I nimbly leap from rock to rock, how I haven't fallen on my ass in nine hundred years, the way my hair never needs combing... Hell, I'd want me too.  
  
In the night, a dark and faraway voice calls to me.  
  
Saruman, I think.  
  
"Legolaaassss..."he calls.  
  
"Quit the phantom stuff, please," I request. "We both know you don't have to talk that way."  
  
"Ahem, hrum, right," he says. "Well uh... I'll just get on with it then, shall I?"  
  
"Please do."  
  
"Right–––Legolas! Come with me, my handsome Elven prince! Together, we can be––"  
  
"Can you hurry this along? It's been a rough evening," I sigh, sliding down the trunk of a tree, feeling a bit odd at being hit on by a disembodied voice.  
  
"I command you to be mine, Legolas!" Saruman orders harshly. "Forget the quest, forget the others! Your world will only be me!"  
  
I stand in one nimble leap. "Alright, whitey, zip it," I growl. "Or the next time you want to look at your palatir it'll be through an x-ray."  
  
The bodiless voice of Saruman fades, grumbling expletives.  
  
After a while, Aragorn comes to where I sit and leans in, whispering in my ear what I assume to be the dirtiest thing he could think of. I turn, shocked, and slap him.  
  
He winces, rubbing his cheek and looking chagrined.  
  
"It was worth a shot."  
  
"No it wasn't."  
  
"Well, shit, I'm out of ideas."  
  
Aragorn sits heavily on the log beside me.  
  
"You and everyone else," I say. "The Bitch of Gondor is over there pouting because I won't give him any sugar."  
  
"Well, that's different, I know you'll do me."  
  
"I am not a slut."  
  
"You shag people left and right in other stories!" Aragorn shouts, standing  
  
up. "This sucks, I'm asking for a transfer to The Contest."  
  
Then he stomps off, leaving me alone with my grumbling and frustration.  
  
T.B.C............  
  
A/N: ok, the disembodied voice was a cheap shot, but wuteva.  
  
Reviews: Hit me Flames: Hit me Muffins: Hit me 


	4. A Confession and a Nazgul

Disclaimer: You know where to look  
  
A/N: well, I hope no one is too miffed at m randomness and disregard for all that is holy and Legolas related.  
  
Can't think of anything else to add, so, again,  
  
ONWARD INTO THE RANDOM FLUFFNESS THAT IS THIS FIC!  
  
Chapter 4: A confession and a Nazgul  
  
I decide to stay up all night, instead of switching watches with Gimli. He is the only one yet who has not said or done anything suggestive, and I am not in the mood to rupture our friendship by dodging a saucy poke or sexual proposal. Besides, I don't need to sleep tonight, and I'm more afraid of what will happen once I am asleep.  
  
When the orange and pink lights of morning creep slowly over the world, I stand and stretch, preparing to wake the others, hoping that they'll be over whatever it was that possessed them lately. I turn toward the camp where all my comrades had been sleeping and find that I have no need to wake them. They are all standing and watching me.  
  
Says Aragorn, "Legolas, we've decided that we're in love with you."  
  
I blink. "All of you?"  
  
"Well, everyone but Gimli," Aragorn thumbs the direction of my bemused companion, leaning with his back to a rock with his arms and legs crossed.  
  
"I think you're all ridiculous!" Gimli calls from his position and I smile.  
  
"Cheers, Gimli," I say.  
  
"But that doesn't change our minds," Aragorn says, stepping closer.  
  
"I say we flip for him!" Pippin shouts.  
  
"We could draw straws," Frodo suggests.  
  
"No, no––" says Boromir in his most commanding voice. "This calls for a tournament!"  
  
"Hey, do I have any say in this at all?!" I shout, growing flushed.  
  
"Hm? Oh yes, of course," says Gandalf. "Now... Which one do you like best?" Gandalf gestures subtly to himself.  
  
"None of you! I mean, that's not what I–– Look, I don't want any of you!"  
  
"Sure you do!" Merry grins. "You're just shy!"  
  
The company looks at one another. "Shy?" they coo. "Awww..." I hear Gimli snicker from his rock.  
  
"I love you too, Legolas!" comes the disembodied voice of Saruman.  
  
"And me!" a Nazgul comes crashing through the underbrush.  
  
"Wait!" the sweet, slightly breathless voice of Glorfindel commands, as its  
  
bearer follows the Nazgul into the knoll. "Legolas, I love you, I want to marry you–––say, what's the disembodied voice of Saruman doing here? I thought he was in Vegas."  
  
"Get out of here!" I say to the company. "Come on–––the flock of you, out! Go!"  
  
"But we know you'll sleep with at least some of us," Boromir says. "I mean... you're a sex kitten."  
  
"WHY DOES EVERYONE THINK I'M A SLUT?" I roar.  
  
For a moment, there is silence, until Sam, who'd been looking around thoughtfully, calls "Get him!"  
  
With that the company rushes forward, a mass of yelling. The hobbits are the first on me, jumping on my neck and bringing me crashing to the ground. Dimly, I hear yells of, "Yeah, you get his arms! Hold him down!" and the sound of my sleeve tearing.  
  
"I'm the youngest, I get first turn!" Pippin shouts over the din.  
  
"That doesn't mean anything!" cries Gandalf. "I'm the oldest, so I get him first!"  
  
"No I'm the oldest," I yell as loud as I can. "And I say EVERYBODY OFF!"  
  
"Well actually, Legolas," Gandalf says instructionally. "The Istari are older than Middle Earth itself, so technically, that would make me–––and the disembodied voice of Saruman–––the oldest."  
  
"I don't want a history lesson! GET OFF!"  
  
My suitors seem to ignore me and I feel Boromir grabbing my hands and forcing them behind my back. Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of Gimli standing battle-ready, axe in both hands.  
  
"LAY OFF THE ELF OR I START SWINGING!" he bellows and the others pull away from me.  
  
"Ow," I say, rubbing my shoulder. "That killed."  
  
I stand in a daze, pull my sleeve back onto my shoulder where the fabric had ripped and dash off into the forest.  
  
T.B.C.  
  
A/N: what will become of our dear Legolas?????? Weel, you'll just have to wait and find out won't you? buwahahahahahaha 


	5. Oo Whoa!

Disclaimer: ok, if you don't know where it is, go back to the 4th chapter and it will tell you at the top of the page  
  
A/N: Before you start to read the fic, please locate the exits nearest your computer. Should the fic suddenly experience a loss of pressure, okygen mask will descend from the sky. Place the mask over your face and continue to breathe normally. If you are at the fic with a small child, place your mask on first and let the little bugger fend for himself.  
  
FORWARD INTO THE FIC:  
  
Chapter 5: Oo  
  
The forest is cool and calming and I sit alone, stilling my frantic heart. I sing quietly to myself for a moment, then sit at the base of a tree, tucking my knees up to my chin. After a while, I hear soft crunching on the forest floor and leap to my feet, thinking that at least one of my pursuers has located me. I draw my bow , holding my arrow against the taut string and aiming at the sound. When what seems like hours have passed, a small, thick figure with a braided beard steps into my line of sight. I breathe a sigh of relief and put my bow down.  
  
"Going to shoot me, my Elf brother?" Gimli asks, smiling.  
  
"I heard you coming a mile off, but I didn't know who you were."  
  
"May I?" Gimli gestures to a patch of leaves on the forest floor and I nod,  
  
happy for a change in companionship (ie: someone who won't try to jump my gun). "Don't worry about those guys," he says. "I mean, it's been a long journey and there's no women here, so..."  
  
"Hey."  
  
"Sorry, mate," Gimli chuckles. "But you have to admit––"  
  
"No I don't."  
  
He turns to look at me, the teasing glint gone from his eyes. "Their hearts  
  
are in the right place, those guys... it's just their nether regions you've got to watch out for."  
  
I laugh.  
  
"You okay?" he asks, sounding less gruff than he ordinarily does.  
  
"Yeah, I'll be alright."  
  
"That's not what I asked," he says. "Are you okay? Now?"  
  
"Ye––" I start to say that I'm fine, then stop and snap my head around to look at Gimli. "Hey," I ask suddenly. "Do you like spaghetti westerns?"  
  
"I love spaghetti westerns," he responds, wide-eyed.  
  
"You wanna get down?"  
  
"Yes," he says. "Yes I do."  
  
And so it began...  
  
A/N, just like the title says, Oo dunno is I want to continue, I think its over here...have fun eating peanut butter! 


	6. phsyco babble a closer look at an uthor...

Hey peoples, well, this is just an author note, so ON WITH THE PHSYCO BABBLE!

Ok, I dunno wut to write next, so I'd appreciate some ideas. Ku ku ku.

Pirates of the pathetic plot: thanxs. Glad you like it. Don't worry, I won't try anything, cuz well, I'm out of ideas, but I'm goning to write more if I can. Um, what are the very secret diaries? I have no idea what that is…

Hallahello: um, the next chapter? I guess you could call this the next chapter, but that's it for this story. Well, I'm glad you liked it, lol.

I LOVE ALL YOU PEOPLES! (even though only 2 people reviewed) REVIEW GODDAMN IT! Ku ku ku. I love ya'll.

Well, I think I'll try to write something on Saiyuki next, but maybe another lotr fic…

Sanzo: forever snarky


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